The Death of Me
by Sparrows Magician
Summary: Merlin is an artist and really wishes to work against his original aesthetic, drawing women as he sees them. So he calls in a favor and attempts to draw a woman in a different light...so why was he stupid enough to request Morgana Pendragon? Modern fic.


He is pacing nervously around his apartment, the easel set up in the corner, the small stool in front and the blanket folded on top and ready for use. He sighs, he is a professional, he has done this a million times but yet this suddenly feels very nerve racking. He sighs for the millionth time…he asked for this. He was the one to call in a favor to Mr. Bosch and the man was only too happy to oblige him. He sits down in a slump, his eyes once again falling towards the unoccupied space and his mind reels that soon someone _else_ would be sitting in there. He gulps again, his eyes wide. He had _wanted this_…and he is suddenly second guessing his decisions as of late.

He feels his palms sweat for a moment, but his nervousness moving to the back of his mind as he hears a knock at the door. He takes a deep breath as he walks towards the mass, his fingers trembling as the lock clicks open and the entry way protests against the tile floor.

She stands there as immaculate as ever, Morgana Pendragon, President of Investigations for Sterling-Bosch Insurance Group. She is the best of the best when it comes to finding stolen artworks, painting, cars, etc. She looks almost bored as her eyes settle on him, her eyebrow quirking in a way to ask him _why the hell_ he is still standing there like that. He finds himself and flusters a bit.

"Ms. Pendragon, I'm sorry please come in."

The click of her Jimmy Choos are heard through his lavish studio apartment. _Mummy_ bought it for him…he should be more grateful. He watches as she inspects the place, her hip dropping to the side as her tailored Dolce n Gabbana suit clings to her body, the skirt a sharp A-line, her Hermes bag settling against her thigh. She truly is a stunning individual…_and rich don't forget rich._ That was the exact reason he wanted to use her today, for this piece.

"So where do you want me?"

She tilts her head back, her long silk curls dangling down her body, her head tilted to the side. He wrings his hands again, very nervous about the whole situation.

"Um…on the stool."

She walks towards the space, eyeing his set up. It is a nice apartment. The 25th floor of the Razor is quite an accomplishment for anyone. She knows how rich his _mummy_ is which one of the reasons she agreed to this. She inspects where he will be drawing her and grabs for the sheet, she raises and eyebrow at him in question. He gulps, his eyes shooting down to the tile.

"Well…I was hoping I could draw you in that sheet…just that sheet…you can say no, your suit is lovely and would work just as well but the sheet-"

"Fine."

His eyes widen at how quickly she agrees. She stares at him hard.

"Do you wish me to take off my make up as well?"

He looks down at his toes. They wiggle against the cold floor.

"If you could just leave on some sharp eye liner and soft lip gloss that would be ideal."

She nods once at him and his palm sweats as she disappears into his bathroom with the sheet…this was a bloody awful idea.

* * *

He takes deep gulps of air as he looks at her, his breath still not recovering from when he'd seen her exit his bathroom. She holds the top of the sheet to her shoulder, while the other lies to the side playing with the soft material. It falls down her body, covering down to the knee of her left leg that is braced high on the seat while the other is draped down in a long fashion and alluring manner, her skin visible from her hip down to her ankle. Her hair is pinned up with a few pieces falling around her face and shoulders in a tender manner. She takes a deep breath as his eyes move over her, her mind calm as his dark blue irises bore into her.

"Okay, now tilt your head up just slightly."

She silently obeys his every command, something she does not usually subscribe too but this drawing is important…Mr. Bosch had implied that when he asked her to do this. _They're great customers…we need this Morgana. You'll be fine…_fine indeed. She's dealt with Merlin Ambrosias on many occasions…and 'fine' is not a way to describe him. He is a spoiled brat that she is pretty sure is doing more than just the pot…though that is usually his drug of choice when she sees him. He had dropped out of school due to a few deaths surrounding him, his father being the big one. His mother has kept their head above water but mostly Merlin has found a way to fuck everything up every chance he gets. She has seen the way he has looked at her, and she has known his desire to draw her for some time. She has found a way out of it until now.

"Can you relax a bit? Your shoulders keep rising and becoming tense."

She gulps. Her eyes hard.

"Sorry, this isn't a very…comfortable situation."

He frowns as she watches his pencil finally make contact with the paper.

"I'm sorry. I know this must be unpleasant for-"

"Extremely unpleasant."

Her eyes are sharp as they look at him, he frowns further.

"Thank you anyway I suppose. I've needed a female subject for sometime but no one was willing so…"

She rolls her eyes.

"Is that honestly your excuse?"

He glances at her and then back at the canvas.

"What are you talking about?"

"Merlin, I've seen your work. It is the only thing your mother has to brag about lately. You have a plethora of female drawings, a few of your old girlfriend if I remember correctly. I feel like you're just doing this in hopes of gaining favor with your mother."

He glances at her again and then back at the canvas.

"Yeah? Interesting. If you're so keen about my decisions why did you agree?"

She squirms in her seat, but her eyes become soft again.

"My boss made a very powerful argument. He was hoping I could come here and see how deep you've gotten yourself into in this mess of drugs."

He quirks an eyebrow at her and then moves back to the canvas.

"Oh yea? It's just pot to take the edge off. I need something…if I don't I start thinking of my Dad and that hurts too much. I promise I'm not doing anything more than that."

She is wrong about one thing…he did not choose to draw her to gain favor with his mother. He wanted to test his limits. Usually he draws women the way he sees them, hard women hard, soft woman soft…but he has never taken on the challenge of drawing such a hard faring woman like Morgana, in a very alluring soft manner. That is why he wanted her to pose. He wanted to see her in a different light.

She eyes him as he continues to draw, the arches of his wrist, the movement of his hand. He is not bad looking by any means…and if he was so hyped up on drugs his eyes wouldn't be able to look at her so sharply. She knows that he has had his share of falling-outs with his family, his mother desperate for him to return home to Cambridge and get out of London. Her eyes soften, he may be rich but he is very lost right now.

"Okay, keep your eyes like that."

Her brow furrows.

"Like what?"

"Like how you just had them."

He sneaks a peak and keeps drawing.

"How did I just have them?"

He looks over at her, for a moment the drawing forgotten as the afternoon sun rains down upon her soft features. His eyes move over her bewildered look, the mighty Morgana Pendragon suddenly looking like the innocent soft woman he always knew was under that hard mask. He smiles sheepishly at her, admiring her sensual body and face, the perfect subject for this drawing.

"Your eyes were soft, almost loving. It was a nice look on you."

She blushes suddenly, not sure why the compliment makes her feel so…_childish_ for some reason.

"Oh, okay."

He picks up his pencil again and starts back to work, not saying anything more as he continues to draw. She feels her eyes soften more as she watches him roll his sleeves up, his strong forearms pressing into the canvas as he goes to work, his face a mask of concentration. She watches as his eyes filter from the canvas to her, but they always seem to linger on her longer than necessary…though it is a picture. He is probably doing his best to get all the details. The movement of his eyes and wrist feels like it goes forever, scrutinizing and analyzing every inch of her. It takes a mere moment for the sheet to slip from her trembling hand as she catches it above her breasts. He stops suddenly, his vigorous work interrupted. She blushes as she attempts to reposition.

"No don't…stay just like that."

She watches as his fingers come up to smudge the canvas and he works just as quickly, his eyes bright and excited for her new pose. It feels like ages later when he finally steps back from his work. He smiles and motions for her to come over and see what he has accomplished. She holds the sheet to her breasts and wraps it around her lower half, leaving her long back exposed. She stands in front of his drawing, her breath catching in her throat. Her eyes soften even more, she has never look so beautiful, so at peace…so _gentle_. She is a hard woman living in a hard world, how tragic is it that she has never felt this stunning. She turns to Merlin, a small smile on her features.

"Thank you, I look beautiful."

He gulps, his hand twitches.

"That wasn't hard to accomplish…you are always breathtaking, Morgana."

Her lips twitch into a soft look.

"Merlin…I know we had our differences in the past, I'm not your favorite person because of my position at Sterling-Bosch…no one likes the person who comes and takes their things…with that being said thank you for letting me be your subject. It was a surprisingly pleasant afternoon."

He shuffles his feet and stuffs his hands in his pockets, he is suddenly very embarrassed.

"I know what you mean, and your right. I'm hoping this could be a change to all of that. You're a good person Morgana, and I like to think I'm a good person as well…I just think we got off on the wrong foot is all. I think if I didn't show up high to that first meeting we all had together you probably wouldn't think so lowly of me."

She shifts the blanket to hold both ends in one hand, her other resting on his arm.

"Maybe you're right, and I'm sure me repossessing your bike didn't help matters…I am sorry about that. I don't make the law, I just follow it."

He nods solemnly, his hand coming up to cover hers. Her skins is as soft as he imagined it, their many bickering fights over his property are lost as soon as his fingers brush over hers. It is a serene moment. She is stunning as she looks up at him with deep emerald irises.

"I should paint that picture…your eyes…"

She nods softly, her gaze shifting over his features as his hand comes up her arm and settles on her chin, his thumb rubbing her skin. It is so calming, this lazy afternoon filled with drawing and flirting…and the discovery of the good in people. He runs his fingers over her neck, not realizing how close they had gotten. Her free hand grips his arm a little tighter as his face comes down to meet her is the chastest of kisses. All the arguing…the pain coming to a boil. The wrongs they had committed against each other, the venom they spew during meetings about his stuff vs. what is owed to her company is forgotten. He grabs for her as her lips meet his again, the desire between them suddenly boiling over.

His fingers make their way between the crease of the sheet and is met with the soft skin of her stomach, she feels very alive suddenly, very in tune with what is going on between them. His fingers dip down behind her, first gripping at her bottom and then playing with the backside of her core. She trembles under his ministrations, not surprised at how much pleasure she is suddenly receiving from him. She has seen his talented fingers work and paint in the past…she can see what he can do. She suddenly wants him to use his skills on her, _to draw over her body_.

She feels his finger enter her from behind and she gasps at how forward he is, the hold on the sheet faltering as it slips down her body, her leg moving high on him as his fingers assault her, his jeans tormenting her nub as she presses into his body. Her free hand grips at his hair as his mouth moves over her skin, pulling at the sheet and reveling in the view of her chest. He licks at her sharp nipples, begging to be wet from his tongue. He does not take his time, his teeth nipping and sucking as he moves his finger faster inside of her. He wishes to consume her, every inch. He pulls at the sheet and it falls to the floor…_finally_. He grabs at her naked back. The feeling of her flesh is intoxicating.

"God Morgana…do you have any bloody idea how fucking wet you are? When was the last time you go ravished?"

She moans in response…it has been a bit too long since the last time she has had sex…and she's never had someone work her body in such a way. Her breath hitches.

"Six months this week."

His fingers speed up.

"Christ…let's fix that shall we?"

She nods as her lips find his, her fingers pulling at the button of his shirt. She knew coming here was a bad idea…so very bad…

"I shouldn't have come here…"

She kisses him harder as he removes his talented fingers, his shirt being ripped from his body.

"Oh yeah?"

She makes quick work of his jeans and he watches her with an amused expression.

"Yeah…you're not a good influence Merlin Ambrosias…and I know _exactly_ how many female subjects you use."

She pulls at his jeans and drawers and once he is void of them they fall into a heap onto the floor, the carpet making a nice cushion and the sheet protecting them from any rug burn. He moves his mouth over her neck, sucking at her perfect flesh, desiring to mark every inch.

"Oh those girls are just friends…they're not perfect like you Morgana…"

She does not care if he is lying, suddenly nothing matter as he hikes her leg up and sinks into her warm, _inviting_ _pussy_. She groans, her body has been denied this primitive act for too long. He moves within her, her body so warm so slick…she feels like _seduction_.

"Do you have any bloody idea how tight you are?"

Her voice hitches as he pushes harder.

"I have an inkling…ah!"

She feels him hit a particularly sensitive spot inside of her and quickly flips them over, his fingers coming up behind her to release her long locks from their confines. She starts to ride him like an expert, her curls bouncing with her movements.

"You should leave your hair down more…it makes you look like a goddess."

Her hips move faster…tighter…

"I bet you say that to all the girls."

His smile is wicked as he sits up, his hips pushing back against here hitting deep inside of Morgana. A deep sultry moan escapes her lips.

"No…just most of 'em."

She grips his hair harder as her hips meet his in powerful thrust after powerful thrust. She _really_ shouldn't be doing this…especially with a client's child…especially with _Merlin._He has been the bane of her existence for at least a year and a half now, and, apparently, the second they are alone together _this _happens. She should feel worse about this, but she doesn't. She feels alive, powerful, _elemental_. She doesn't know why it is so charged between them but it is. Maybe it has something to do with the amount of yelling they always seem to happen at one another?

"Ah!"

He is rubbing her nub in a timely fashion and she shakes brutally, quivering above him. His teeth latch onto one of her nipples and she cannot help herself, she screams her release like a violent tsunami. She feels as if it is wave upon wave of pleasure running through her and his body reacts in toe. She is pretty sure she has a bruise on her nipple from the assault…but she doesn't care as she moves over him a few more times, her body milking the pleasure he is giving her. She falls on him with a deep sigh and he runs his fingers over her back and kissing her shoulder. Her lips tremble as she pulls away from him. He has a smug look on his face. She suddenly remembers herself.

She stands up slowly, his fingers running over her legs as she rises. She doesn't say anything as she swiftly walks away from him and into the bathroom. He looks at the door oddly, wondering what she is doing. He hears the water running for a brief moment and not five minutes later Morgana emerges in her tailored suit. His eyebrow scrunches up as she briskly walks over to him, still sitting on the floor with the covers thrown over him.

"Thank you Mr. Ambrosias. I hope you got the picture you desired. I will see you later."

His eyes widen and he stands as she walks towards the door.

"Wait…that's it?"

She turns to him as if bored.

"That's what?"

"Oh come now Morgana don't play coy. We just fucked and you're just what…leaving like it's no big deal?"

She sighs and rubs her temples with her fingers.

"Merlin, I am not a stupid woman. I know how this works, and I know _enough_ about you to know that what just happened was because of suppressed sexual tension between us. Now that it is over we can both move on. You got your picture and more from me today. You should be thrilled."

He walks towards her, his fingers gripping the sheet.

"You know you're a real pain in my ass sometimes. Always coming around, always demanding this that and the other thing for insurance purposes. I can't _stand_you." He is in her face, her chin raised…his voice softens, "You annoy the hell out of me Morgana, and I think I might just love you anyway."

She rolls her eyes.

"How precious. Now get back to what you were doing before this. I have an appointment and we have a meeting with your mother tomorrow to discuss the resigning of her estate. _Do not_ be late Merlin, I mean it."

"Whatever you say, your majesty." He bows mockingly in her direction, she just nods.

"Good I will see you tomorrow."

"Bye!"

She slams the door harder than usual.

* * *

They have not spoken of the "incident" for nearly two months now. They have had meetings on and off since then, about five or six. His mother has been pushing really hard to get the insurance on the house changed over. Since Sterling-Bosch handles everything else she really wishes for them to control that as well. Morgana has been more than helpful through the whole situation. She still holds that evil smirk that his mother comments on all the time. Hunith always tells him, _dear she looks so scary but she is just so good at what she does…remember when she found our Michelangelo?_

Through it all he can't look at her the same. Every single meeting he imagines her from that lazy afternoon, wrapped up in that sheet, the sun bouncing off her sharp cheekbones, her eyes clouded over in ecstasy. She is so pure in that moment, so soft and fragile. She was not like the Morgana he sees on a daily basis, such a hard and in control woman. He has had to distract himself since, but it doesn't seem to be working. He went strictly to landscapes for a while but that was a bust. He kept picturing her there, sometimes in a soft summer dress, other times she is all bundled up in a snow jacket and smiling adoringly at him. He has known her for so long…and they know practically everything about one another. He thinks that's why they fight, she wants him to better himself and he wants her to relax a little. He sighs dramatically. He should be happy today…today is supposed to be a good day.

"It is quite marvelous."

It is a full-scale picture of the Appalachian Mountains. He drew them on his trip to America last year. His canvas is a ten by ten, a magnificent piece. He used oils. He favors them as of late. His art is starting to get the recognition it deserves and this is just one of many pieces he has on display tonight. He couldn't bring himself to put up the picture of Morgana. It is at home in his secret stash. For some reason he does not want to share that afternoon with anyone, he believes it would spoil the purity between them. He sighs dramatically as he sips his wine and walks around the gallery, admiring _his _admirers.

"Oh Merlin, my son come here."

He walks over to his mother, a look of elation on her features.

"Merlin, I would like you to meet Freya, Freya this is my son Merlin."

She holds out her hand.

"It is a pleasure. Your mother has told me so much."

They exchange pleasantries, a moment of lighthearted small talk. She is the heiress to a wealthy real estate entrepreneur who is buying up all of London. He is the son of a great inventor, his mother is dropping hint after hint. He nods to her, his eyes studying her modest dress. She is lovely in her own right…but not exotic enough for his tastes. He sighs and downs his wine…at least he can find some joy tonight.

* * *

She asked an incessant amount of questions the next morning, practically tearing his ear off. She is a curious little thing, nice, but a bit too chatty for his tastes, and she is too easily manipulated, jumped in bed with him too quickly. He sighs…he knows his mother favors this relationship. He should at least make an effort. He has been dating Freya for two months when he gets a knock on his door, and answers it with his white shirt unbuttoned and his jeans hanging low on his body. He is happy when her eyes linger on him longer than necessary before connecting with his.

"Merlin."

"Morgana, come in."

He wasn't expecting her, not that he minds honestly. She walks in as if she owns the place…and technically, with the amount of insurance Sterling-Bosch has them under she mine as well.

"I heard you have a new girlfriend."

His lips quirk.

"Jealous?"

Her eyes roll.

"Hardly, I just need her to sign some documentation, stating no rights to anything in the home, your mother's home yadda yadda. I need her to know that she is simply a visitor and will not interfere with any-"

"Really, Morgana? That's why you're here at eight thirty in the morning?"

Her face comes up and her brow scrunches together.

"Why else would I be here?"

He is suddenly frustrated, enough is enough.

"God, okay Morgana I get it. That day meant nothing to you, it was just a quick fix after six months of celibacy, I got the memo…but could you please…I don't know not show up at my house in that dress, with your hair down and just…the rest of you? Like honestly, I am a strong man and I'm trying to do the right thing but just look at you!"

She looks down at her designer dress, it is modest in its own right, and covering all the necessary parts, the square lining at the top is giving her even more modesty. It is just simple and black, though it does hug her in all the right places and sits tightly on her mid thighs.

"Why are you so worked up?"

"Because look at you! You look…God Morgana…"

He turns, he can't handle this.

"Whatever you want leave it on the table. I'll get Freya to sign it later."

She raises an eyebrow at him and studies his behavior. She wonders what to do, why he is acting so strange. She frowns slightly.

"Did it really mean so much to you?"

He turns. His shoulders slump.

"Yes, it did."

She nods once and then her dress comes off.

* * *

"It really is such a stunning piece."

She listens as the elder woman admires the picture her fiancé had painted of her. He said he used oils, _they're more realistic_. He had waited a whole year before revealing it to the public. She smiles at the favorable response it is getting. The gallery he bought is as lavish as her lifestyle, the walls high and alluring, making the art more desirable to the audience. She loves the piece he has done of her, of the long overdue relationship they finally have.

"Wine?"

He hands her a glass of port and she smiles at him. The deep red color swishing about as it makes its way to her lips, his hand resting softly on her back. His lips come down to kiss her neck tenderly and she purrs in approval. He kisses her once more on her delectable lips.

"They seem to have taken to my painting very well."

She smiles at him.

"Indeed, I feel slightly famous."

"You are slightly famous."

She chuckles and snuggles into his side as she watches the people admire her on the canvas. She frowns slightly.

"I still don't understand why you called it _Persephone._ Isn't she the goddess of death?"

He smiles down at her and kisses her crown.

"Oh yes my love she is."

She looks up at him.

"So what? Are you implying that I am death?"

He leans down close to her, his smile wicked.

"I am implying that you, my gorgeous fiancé, will be the _death_ of _me_."

Her smile is wicked as she clinks her glass with his.

"Good."

**_Fin._**

**Got this idea from my RPG group...and since there wasn't enough Mergana I adjusted a few ideas and made them my own...and voila! I really wanted to do a modern fic...what do y'all think? Too out of character? Just right? Am I off my rocker yet?! Ah...probably:p**

**Review per favore! *that's italian!***

**Thanks for reading!**


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